Eomer Chronicles
by Deandra
Summary: Stories of Eomer's life prior to his meeting and marrying Lothiriel. A random, occasional series, adjunct to the Elfwine Chronicles, and to be known as The Eomer Chronicles.
1. Beginnings

_**A/N: Eomer Chronicles 1: In the Elfwine Chronicles, I have made passing reference to how Eomer and Eothain met and became friends, and I decided I wanted to write that story. The problem is, what to do with it now. It doesn't really fall within the scope of the Elfwine Chronicles, but it definitely ties to that storyline. Additionally, I have at least one other idea for this time frame that I might eventually write, and it would also be "oddball". I finally decided that I would create Eomer Chronicles, and add this (and any others I write) to that as chapters. As with the Elfwine Chronicles, they will not necessarily be in chronological order, but I don't anticipate there being very many of them (though who knows – I originally only intended to do 3 Elfwine Chronicles and now there are 178 of them, as well as the several "backstories" associated with them). Guess we'll see…**_

**Beginnings**

(Edoras, 3002 III)

The three boys chased along the backstreet of Edoras, snatching at one another and laughing. Turning a corner, the leader and largest of the boys nearly collided with another lad who was approaching from the opposite direction. All of them skidded to an abrupt halt and stared warily at each other.

"Who are you?" the leader asked. "I have not seen you around before." He ran a shirtsleeve across his runny nose.

The new boy facing him seemed about his age, and was fairly tall and gangly. He had the look of someone who had grown a few inches recently. Eothain noted the neatly combed hair and fine clothes that he wore, pegging him as one of the nobles' sons. _Probably prissy and conceited._

"I am Eomer," the boy answered quietly, after a moment, but offering no further information. "Who are you?" he asked in return, a flick of his eyes encompassing all three of them.

"I am Eothain. And this is Cadda and Aldfrid." His eyes shifted at a movement behind Eomer and a young girl peeked around at them. "They have got you playing nursemaid, I see!" He let out a derisive laugh and the other boys did likewise.

"Be silent! Eowyn is my sister," Eomer snapped authoritatively, startling Eothain.

_Yep – prissy and conceited, just as he'd thought._ "Ooh, isn't she cute," he sneered. "Are you going to play dolls together?" Due to being larger than most boys his age, and both strong and agile, Eothain rarely feared a confrontation with others, and it was clear this lad was no match for him.

Eothain never saw the fist coming that smashed into the side of his face. He stumbled back as a fire lit in his eyes. "So that's how it is? Well, I'll teach you a lesson in manners!" With a growl, he launched himself at Eomer, taking them both to the ground, and the other two boys eagerly closed in to watch the scrap. Eothain had never lost a fight, and they didn't anticipate this being the first time he did – this lad was in for a thrashing! No one in their right mind got Eothain angry!

"Eomer, don't! Uncle won't like it! Eomer!" Eowyn wailed at the scuffling boys.

Her pleas went unnoticed as the two tussled, partly because Eothain was finding this fight more difficult than expected. No one else could hold their own against him, but this gangly boy was doing pretty well for himself. What he lacked in muscle and weight seemed to be made up for with determination and…something else.

There was a rage in Eomer that must have bubbled below the surface until it was set off by the taunts. Now he didn't seem to see or hear anything. There was just his fists flying as fast as he could throw them, and the apparent satisfaction at the sound of flesh meeting flesh. He didn't even appear aware of Eothain's blows that were landing on him in return, just the release that came with…hitting something.

Startled by the ferociousness of the attack, Eothain was doing little more than defending himself against the onslaught. He could not see that his words should have caused such a strong reaction in the other boy, and he wondered at Eomer's behavior.

All of a sudden, something heavy landed on Eomer's back, breaking his rhythm of punching. Only as his vision seemed to clear did he appear to notice that he was sitting on the other boy, and had been pummeling him for all he was worth. At least he was until the girl had interrupted. She had jumped on her brother's back, wrapped her arms around his throat and then let the weight of her body do the rest, choking him into submission.

Eomer wrestled her arms away from his throat, coughing a little as air was able to return to his lungs. "Let go, Eowyn!" He was finally able to shrug her off, and rubbed at his neck.

"Uncle will be angry, Eomer! You should not fight!" his sister retorted, hands on hips.

Eomer glanced down at Eothain, who was gazing at him with surprise and caution. Eothain tentatively swiped at his nose that was trickling blood, and a wave of remorse appeared to come over Eomer. Quickly he stood up off the other lad, then suddenly reached his hand down to help him up. "Sorry. I…I do not know what got into me."

Eothain raised up on his elbows to stare at this odd fellow. _Give him a whipping like that and then apologize? When Eothain had been the one to start it?_ The hand still hovered in front of him and finally he reached to grab it, allowing Eomer to pull him to his feet.

"Your uncle really gonna be angry with you?" Eothain mumbled, not sure what else to say.

Eomer shrugged. "Maybe. I might be able to sneak in and change clothes before he finds out."

"You new around here?" Eothain asked, brushing the dirt off his clothes.

A nod was the only answer, but then the boy explained, "We are from Aldburg."

"Your parents move here, then?" Cadda inquired.

There was a long pause and Eothain noticed tears welling in the girl's eyes – _Eowyn, was it? Something wasn't quite right here…_

"No," Eomer replied after a moment, then met the boy's gaze squarely, "they died. We have come to live with our uncle now."

All the air went out of Eothain's lungs. _The boy had lost _both_ his parents? That was tough luck. This Eomer, he was alright._

"Yeah, well, then maybe we'll see you around." He pointed down the street they were on. "See that house at the end, on the right side? That is my house. Why don't you come by tomorrow after breakfast and we can…you know." He shrugged.

Eomer eyed him warily, then nodded. "If Uncle does not mind, I will come."

"Yeah. Well, see you then," Eothain answered awkwardly.

Catching Eowyn's shoulder, Eomer steered her back toward the main road and Eothain watched them go. As they turned uphill off the side street, he curiously moved forward to trail behind them out of sight. _Where did they live? Did he know their uncle?_ By the time he got to the main road, the two were no longer alone. A man was with them and obviously questioning Eomer about his bedraggled appearance.

"Isn't that…Theodred? The King's son?" Aldfrid asked after a moment, as he and Cadda crowded up behind their friend.

Eothain's eyes narrowed. "Yes," he murmured. _Uncle? Theodred's father? The _King_?_

His thoughts were interrupted by a voice calling for Cadda. "Have to go," the boy said, waving as he dashed toward home.

"Guess I should get home, too," Aldfrid said. "Mother will have supper ready soon. See you tomorrow?"

Eothain nodded absentmindedly, his thoughts still on the two newcomers. Slowly he turned and made for his own house, pondering the recent events. His father was just turning in the gate and waited for him, so that they entered the yard together. Glancing down, Garmund queried, "You been fighting again?"

Eothain shrugged. "Just a small argument. It did not last long."

"And you won, I take it," his father chuckled, all too aware of the boy's reputation.

To his surprise, Eothain shook his head slightly. "Not exactly."

Before Garmund could ask further questions, they had entered the house and Beornwyn was telling them, "Get washed. Supper is ready."

They moved to the wash stand and the conversation lapsed. Once they were seated around the table and dishing food onto their plates, Garmund told them, "News from up at Meduseld. Marshal Eomund's wife has passed on also. The King has brought her children to live with him."

Eothain's ears pricked up as his mother remarked, "Our poor Lord. He lost his dear wife and now his beloved sister as well. Will his house ever know happiness?"

"Aye," Garmund murmured, tucking into his meal. "It is fortunate for the children, though, to have someone to take them in. Not all are so blessed."

"What are their names?" Eothain asked curiously, though suspecting he already knew.

"Eomer and Eowyn," his father replied, glancing at him. "I think the boy is about your age, Eothain. It might be nice if you befriended him."

Fighting back a guilty blush, Eothain took a hasty bite of potato. After swallowing it to give himself time to appear nonchalant, he shrugged, "Maybe I will." It was noncommital but, all things considered, he _had_ started on that path already – in a roundabout fashion, that is.

His thoughts went back to the fight and the sight of Eomer standing over him, apologizing and helping him up. Maybe the lad wasn't so prissy and conceited after all…

THE END

2/22/09

2991 - Eomer born

2992 - Eothain born

2995 - Eowyn born

3002 - Eomund killed by orcs; Theodwyn dies shortly thereafter (Eomer-11, Eowyn-7)

Aldfrid – "old peace"

Cadda – unknown

Beornwyn – "warrior joy"

Garmund – "spear protector"

_Eomer becomes acquainted with a boy named Eothain. Eomer Chronicles 1_


	2. Loss of Innocence

_**A/N: Eomer Chronicles 2: This was actually the first idea I had for this series, but the second to be finished.**_

**Loss of Innocence**

**(Aldburg, 3002 III)**

"Eomer? Where are we going? Where is Mama?" Eowyn asked perplexedly.

Her older brother's hand tightened its grip on hers, and his jaw tensed as he struggled to hide his emotions. "We are going with Uncle Theoden and Cousin Theodred," the boy explained curtly.

"But why?" his sister persisted. It had been a confusing night, with much rushing about of people and hushed tones. She had not slept well as she listened to the bustle of activity in the hall, and then this morning, when she peered out her door, many of the servants were weeping. The housekeeper, Betersel, had come personally to get Eowyn dressed, but she had shushed her questions, and it all frightened the little girl. Only the reassuring presence of her beloved brother, when he came to fetch her after breakfast, eased her distress.

Coming to a stop, Eomer sighed, then tugged Eowyn after him into the empty guest chamber nearby. The pale morning sunshine dimly lit the room as Eomer turned to face his sister. He had grown a couple of inches the past six months, making him quite a bit taller than the little girl, so he knelt down to be more on eye level with her. Taking her hands, he said, "Mama has died, Eowyn. She is gone to the Halls of Waiting like Papa." There was a quaver to his voice, but he managed to keep the tears in check.

Eowyn, however, soon had brimming eyes and she flung her arms tightly around his neck. She sobbed for quite some time as he held her close, not entirely sure who was getting the most comfort from the embrace. At eleven years, he felt the need to behave like a man, and tears felt very weak and childish, but the strong surges of emotion he was feeling were hard to suppress.

After some time, a shaky voice asked from the vicinity of his dampened shoulder, "What will we do now?"

"We will go with Uncle Theoden to live at Edoras," Eomer said firmly, pulling back to look her in the eye and brush her tousled hair out of her face. "Uncle and Theodred will take good care of us." Pressing a kiss to her forehead, he added reassuringly, "Do not worry. I will be with you. I promised Mama that I would look after you and I will not fail."

Eowyn's lip quivered, but she nodded her understanding. Using his sleeve, Eomer wiped her wet cheeks to dry them, and then stood. "Come. They will be waiting for us and wondering where we are," he told her, reaching for her hand again.

They made it as far as the head of the staircase before Eowyn dug in her heels and drew him to a halt. Looking earnestly up at him, she fervently avowed, "When I am grown, I will learn to use a sword and then I will fight! And I will kill all the orcs in the Mark!" Her eyes dared him to argue with her.

Girls did not fight – everyone knew that, Eomer thought, but he did not voice it. Still, it confirmed his suspicion that Eowyn understood more than anyone realized. No one had said that Theodwyn's demise was due to her grief over the loss of her husband, but clearly Eowyn had made that connection. She had reasoned out that the orcs who killed their father had begun their sorrow. But, that future was a long way off and if it helped Eowyn to believe her words of valor, then he would let her do so. Certainly he intended to ride to battle just as soon as he was old enough. With any luck, by the time Eowyn was grown, there would be no need for her to even think of fighting orcs.

Reaching for her hand again, the siblings started down the stairs leading to their new life.

THE END

9/11/08 – 2/28/09

Betersel = "more happiness" (better = betera, happiness = sæl)

_Eomer and Eowyn find their lives have drastically changed. Eomer Chronicles 2_


	3. Ascension

_**Eomer Chronicles 3. The total number will depend on how many ideas I get for new vignettes.**_

_**A/N: I think I must attribute this to rereading Lialathuveril's story "On the Wings of the Storm". She included one tiny moment depicting how the relationship between Theoden and Eomer might have become so close, and apparently it led me to wondering how Eomer had felt when he first returned to Rohan after the War. [To a certain extent, I reference that incident in this story; it may not be canon, but it should be!]**_

_**I would also mention that you lot seem to have overlooked a terrific story by Lady Bluejay, called "The Sell-sword and the Prince". It's not Eomer/Lothiriel, true, but it is well worth reading, and quite enjoyable. For the moment it is action/adventure (and extremely well done), but soon will lead into some romance. It focuses on young Imrahil, and begins with his first meeting with Thorongil (aka Aragorn). You really ought to read it, and pass along reviews. Also of note, presently posting, is another Lialathuveril story – this one more lighthearted – called "The Abduction of Eomer".**_

**Ascension**

**(May, 3019 III)**

"Welcome home, my lord!" A grizzled old warrior called to the party riding up the main road toward Meduseld, and Eomer acknowledged him with a brief lifting of his hand and glance in that direction, though his thoughts were more distant.

Eowyn rode silently beside him, her features cold and impassive, and he could well guess that this was no easier for her than it was for him. The people of Edoras had come out to watch their entry into the city, and lined the road mostly in silence, though he noticed a few murmured amongst themselves. He wondered what their thoughts might be – were they sorry that it was Eomer riding to claim the throne rather than Theoden returning victorious? He knew he was. And he was even more sorry that he was not riding alongside Theodred, as his Marshal, instead of entering alone as the king's heir.

He could not even count the number of times he had made the trek up this hill. None of those previous times had he given any thought to the people he passed along the way. They went about their business as he had gone about his. But now all was changed. Did he read expectation and hope in their eyes? Or was it just wariness and concern? Was there any confidence that he could adequately fill his uncle's boots, or were they merely resigned to their fate and whatever this new king brought upon them?

Until this day, this moment, he had felt at home in Edoras, and knew that he was well liked. His men had followed him willingly, some even eagerly, coming to trust his judgement in battle despite his young years, but the townspeople knew him less well, particularly of late. He had been away so much, riding over the Mark and defending their land, that he probably had not spent a month's time in Edoras during the past year. They had watched him beside Theoden, and even alongside Theodred, but were they pleased or dismayed that he now stood at their head? Eorlingas were not an effusive people; only time would reveal their opinion.

During the past few months, with warfare surrounding them, and then victory celebrations abounding, he had managed to avoid pondering too deeply about his new position. But on the long road home, he could no longer hide from his thoughts and feelings.

His own people would never bring it up, but friend Gimli had once asked him, as they sat around the fires at Cormallen, how he had felt when the king imprisoned him as a common traitor. It was a difficult question to answer. His new allies had not seen the many long years he had lived in the king's household; they could not know the kindness and love that both his uncle and cousin had showered upon their orphaned relations. Eomer had struggled mightily with the deaths of his parents, his sense of obligation to watch over Eowyn, and his own place in the world. There was anger that he felt he could not freely express, and feelings he felt he must hide.

An ill-advised flight back to Aldburg, back to his _home_, had resulted in the king's tracking him down, but that incident had brought a turn in their relationship. It might well be expected that the king of the Mark would have no time to spend raising children, and there were servants to deal with such a task. But Theoden had made time, both for Eomer and Eowyn. Though he had little experience with daughters, he had tried to be there whenever he was needed to listen, to guide and to comfort.

Theodred had naturally found it easier to relate to his male cousin, despite the many years difference in their ages, and he could more readily include Eomer in his activities. Even so, he had taken time to be with Eowyn also, and Eomer knew that it was not only his own influence on his sister, but also that of their relatives, that had shaped her into the strong, capable woman that she was. It had been Theodred who allowed her to first pick up a sword and start on the path to being a shieldmaiden. Eomer had objected, insisting that girls had no place in battle, but Theodred had wisely explained otherwise. In dangerous times, he said, a woman should not have to count on a man for protection – one could not always be available. If he was away when enemies struck, he preferred knowing that the women he cared about had some chance of surviving until he or someone else could come to their aid.

Despite the absence of their parents, both he and Eowyn had felt loved and nurtured. It had not taken long to learn to love their relatives as closely as they had their parents. And then had come the darkness. No one had foreseen the treason of Theoden's counsellor, Grima. Initially, though many thought him peculiar, they had not paid him much mind. But, as Theodred and Eomer were away more, keeping the Mark safe from more and more persistent intruders, a change had come and Grima gained influence over the king. Eowyn had watched helplessly, doing what she could, but Theoden leaned too heavily on his counsellor's words and advice, and Eowyn's pleas fell on deafened ears. Slowly she had despaired as she was unable to leave her duty to attend the king, in order to go fight the darkness, but equally unable to be of much benefit to her failing uncle.

Eomer and Theodred had grown ever more torn between their duty to protect the Mark and their desire to be at Meduseld, even knowing there was little difference they could make there. It had been in a rare lucid moment that Theodred had managed to persuade his father that Eomer was ready to take on the responsibility of Third Marshal, and the deed was done before Grima could prevent it. Even if the king could no longer recognize the respect and love of his sister-son, Theodred did, and he needed to know Eomer had some power to act in the East-mark while he watched over the West-mark. In a way, that show of confidence in his cousin had probably contributed to Theodred's downfall. Unable to break the bond of fealty between the two cousins, and turn them against one another, Saruman decided to permanently end it through death.

And Eomer had been the one to 'benefit' from all of the Worm's machinations. Now both Theoden and Theodred were gone, and he alone ruled the Mark. But he had never desired that outcome – would never have sought it. Still, it had fallen to him, and in his great devotion to these beloved, valorous men, he could do nothing less than honor them with his service in their stead. They had chosen him to be next in line, though none had expected it to be necessary. Eomer had been taught the same things Theodred had learned – leading men in battle, the languages of their allies to the south, courtly behavior. He had been in council meetings, before Grima systematically shut out everyone but himself from the king's close counsel, and had seen how a country was ruled. But never had he expected the day to dawn when he would actually have to step forward and lead.

Eomer's party had arrived at the foot of the steps up to Meduseld, and without thinking the king dismounted and started to lead Firefoot toward the stables. He was startled when Eothain blocked his path and told him, "I will see to your horse, my lord." Eomer was confused until he met his friend's eyes and read the message there – _'You are king now. That is not your place.'_

Swallowing a sigh, he handed over the reins and turned to mount the steps to the Golden Hall, Eowyn not far behind him. She had followed his example and allowed another to claim her horse, and they entered the cold, dark hall together. The heavy doors swung closed behind them, and for several long moments, the pair stood staring down the length of Meduseld toward the great gilded chair where Theoden had sat for as long as either could remember.

The hearth in the center of the room was cold, but a few torches along the pillars added to the light filtering in from the windows under the eaves. Dust particles swirled in the shafts of light, though all else was still as the great hall stood empty but for them.

Without conscious thought, Eomer took a step forward, and then another, slowly progressing toward the throne, and Eowyn fell in at his right hand. A few feet short of the dais, however, they both stopped as if there had been a signal given. Eomer had always stopped at this point, bowing deferentially to his king and taking counsel with him. At such times, his sister had usually stood beside and slightly behind Theoden, much as she now stood beside and slightly behind him.

Unbidden, remembrances washed through his thoughts, of times shared with his uncle – happy times, tearful ones, instructive episodes and tense, fearful moments in recent days. All that was now ended. Theoden King would no longer guide him; Theodred would no longer help him find the right answers. From this time forward, he would have to determine his own way, and bear the full brunt of his mistakes. For a short while, Eowyn would remain and help him restore the kingdom, but too soon she would be gone and he alone would sit in that chair – and try not to dishonor those who had come before him.

Eowyn's hand touched his arm, and he started from his reverie. "Shall…shall I send for your advisers?" she asked quietly.

He did not respond for several long moments, but finally murmured, "No, not yet. I am not ready." He rubbed a weary hand over his face, a sudden tiredness overwhelming him. "There will be time enough for that…tomorrow." Without another word, he moved past the throne to the door behind it which lead to the private chambers. Eventually, he also would be expected to claim Theoden's room as his own, but not now, not yet. For just one more night he wished to sleep under this beloved roof as merely Eomer of Rohan. Tomorrow he would take up the mantle of king.

THE END

3/6/10

_**Post Note: Possibly this could have been an Elfwine Chronicle, but since it predates that series, I thought it fit better here. Keep in mind, however, that this series is connected to the Elfwine Chronicles by content. I keep all the same rules here that I have established there (as to who did what and when). The Eomer here is the same Eomer as there.**_

_**3002 – Eomund killed by orcs, Theodwyn died soon after; Eomer and Eowyn go to live at Meduseld (Eom-11; Eow-7)**_

_**3014 – King Theoden begins to fall under Grima's influence (Eom-23; Eow-19)**_

_**3017 – Eomer made Third Marshal (Eom-26; Eow-22)**_

Eomer returns to Edoras after the War. ONE-SHOT. Part 3 of the Eomer Chronicles.


	4. Training

Eomer learns a lesson while trying to give one. ONE-SHOT. Part 4 of the Eomer Chronicles.

_**Eomer Chronicles 4. The total number will depend on how many ideas I get for new vignettes.**_

_**A/N: I've been struggling with writing lately, and a new Eomer/Lothiriel story is developing in trickles (though I have over 60 pages on it now). Even so, I do still get occasional ideas that actually go somewhere and this was one of them. I had a single image in my head and finally sat down to write the story that explained it.**_

**Training**

**(June, 3003 III)**

The air was torturously returning to his lungs, and with it came awareness of his situation. There wasn't any pain, exactly, but he knew intuitively that he was going to be very sore on the morrow – and likely for several days after. Probably he would even sport some bruises where he had made contact.

He became consciously aware of his face pressed into the dirt; a bit of it had worked its way into his mouth and he reflexively spat it out. Gradually he heard the murmur of voices, and then gentle hands turned him onto his back. He blinked open his eyes to meet the questioning gaze of his cousin. A flicked glance at the faces arrayed behind Theodred revealed a mixture of concern…and amusement.

They knew what he had been so rudely reminded of just now – _you can't push a young horse too fast. Set aside your own impatience and go at his speed_. Eomer had _known_ that, but he was so anxious to impress these men, to be accepted into their ranks as an equal, that he had ignored the warnings – in his own thoughts, in the horse's behavior, and in Theodred's eyes.

Gritting his teeth, he shoved himself to a sitting position, and then stood without accepting the aid of his cousin's arm. He didn't bother brushing the soil from his clothing as he turned to face the colt who was eyeing him warily. "I am well," he announced firmly. "Let us try again."

The men smiled approvingly as he moved forward in a less aggressive manner. The lad was willing to learn – excellent!

THE END

10/23/10

_**Post Note: In case you are wondering, the horse in question is NOT Firefoot. Here Eomer is about twelve years of age. I envision Firefoot, during the Ring War, as a well-seasoned campaigner, and so he would likely be at least ten years old by then. In Elfwine Chronicle 83, "Passing", I have Firefoot as 27 in the year 14 IV – that would mean he was born around 3008 III (give or take, depending on how you calculate the Age change from III to IV). Since the Eomer Chronicles do tie to the Elfwine Chronicles, you can go with that and assume that Firefoot isn't born for about another 5 years.**_

_**3002 – Eomund killed by orcs, Theodwyn died soon after; Eomer and Eowyn go to live at Meduseld (Eom-11; Eow-7)**_

_**3014 – King Theoden begins to fall under Grima's influence (Eom-23; Eow-19)**_

_**3017 – Eomer made Third Marshal (Eom-26; Eow-22)**_


	5. Initiation

_Eomer's first battle doesn't turn out as he expects._

**_Eomer Chronicles 5. The total number will depend on how many ideas I get for new vignettes._**

**_A/N: Am trying to get back on track with writing, but it has been slow in coming – until this idea came to me last night._**

**Initiation**

**(October, 3007 III)**

His insides lurched and roiled, until finally he was unable to stop his morning meal from boiling into his throat and spewing on the ground. There was not even time to conceal himself from the others, hide his weakness. He fell to his knees, his hands splayed on the ground as he heaved repeatedly, until nothing more would come. Amid the dirt and sweat, he felt hot dampness trickling over his cheeks – more humiliation! Purging _and_ tears – what had ever made him think he was equal to this?

He had trained seemingly since he was a child, when he had played with the wooden sword and shield given to him by his uncle. As he grew, and watched his father ride to battle, his efforts became more focused on gaining skill. When orcs claimed Eomund's life, Eomer's determination had been fixed.

But no amount of sparring, no hours of training on horseback could prepare him for this…horror. The noise…the confusion…the shrieks of pain…and death. There had been little time to think, just keep striking with his sword and hope that he could survive. Now, in the aftermath, he gazed across ground littered with the enemy, but also he looked upon the bloody remains of more than a few of his companions. He had never given much thought to blood, until he witnessed so much of it spilled and wasted.

A strong hand fell upon his shoulder, gripping it tightly, and with bleary resignation he looked up. It was some relief to meet the familiar face of Elfhelm rather than another. Elfhelm had served his father and dined in their home on more than one occasion, so Eomer had been acquainted with him as a boy. After Eomund's death, followed soon after by the Marshal's wife, the children had gone to Meduseld to live with their uncle. But Elfhelm had made a point to visit whenever he was in the city, and had both encouraged and supported Eomer as he trained once he became of age. Through Elfhelm's influence, the lad had been placed in the same eored where he served, and Eomer had appreciated having him near, acting as a mentor.

Silently, Elfhelm handed him a waterskin. He took a quick mouthful, swished it around and spat it out, then thirstily drank some down. After stoppering it, he shakily pushed to his feet and handed it back. In his embarrassment, he could not meet Elfhelm's gaze, but the older man understood more than he thought.

An arm went around his shoulders. "Do not be ashamed. You are not the first, nor the last, to react in such a way. Indeed, most everyone does that first time. Trust me – it _does_ get easier."

Eomer nodded, not entirely believing the words of consolation, however much he wanted to do so. How could he not be ashamed when he had so disappointed his king…and his father? He had intended to vindicate both of them, almost believing he would defeat the enemy singlehandedly and finally drive them from their lands. His efforts in that regard were laughable. His stomach churned more at the realization of his failure.

Elfhelm's arm urged him back toward their horses, but after a few moments he remarked, "Every man thinks he will be the best, most fearsome warrior ever seen; that the enemy will quail at his coming. But this…this is the reality for all of us. They do not flee – they stand and fight. And the best we may hope for is that our skill enables us to survive until the battle is ended. Though, along the way, we strive to eliminate as many of them as we can. In time, your skill will grow. You will better be able to block out the sounds and confusion, and focus on doing what needs doing. When that time comes, you will no longer recognize yourself as you are here today. Do not despair, Eomer. You did well. The King…and Eomund…will be pleased."

Eomer swallowed hard, swiping at the sweat on his face, then gave an acknowledging nod of his head. Elfhelm would not lie to him, nor soften his words with false promises. He _could_ do this; he _would_ do this. And, perhaps, eventually other young men need never witness such a scene as he had this day.

THE END

5-9-11

Eomer b 2991; Elfhelm b 2975 – so 16 yrs older

3002 – Eomund killed – Eomer 11, Elfhelm 27

**_3002 – Eomund killed by orcs, Theodwyn died soon after; Eomer and Eowyn go to live at Meduseld (Eom-11; Eow-7)_**

**_3014 – King Theoden begins to fall under Grima's influence (Eom-23; Eow-19)_**

**_3017 – Eomer made Third Marshal (Eom-26; Eow-22)_**


	6. Memento

_Loss is an unavoidable part of battle._

_**Eomer Chronicles 6. The total number will depend on how many ideas I get for new vignettes.**_

_**A/N: Well, you figure out the connection – this came to me as I was rereading the finale of the last book of the Harry Potter series. Why that segued to Eomer, I have no idea!**_

**Memento**

**(Feb 3013, III)**

Eomer swiped a dirty hand over his sweat-streaked face and scooted farther back out of sight of the battle. Not far from him his faithful mount, Tungol, still twitched in the final throes of death, and he swallowed hard to keep the bile from rising into his throat. His first war mount, trained by Eomer himself with a little help from Theodred. And now he was gone. He could not quite shake the feeling that it was an omen of some sort, but he chose not to reflect on what it might mean if it was.

Forcing his thoughts away from the dying horse, he focused on his situation. Horse dead, sword broken, and the battle still being fought. If he was discovered here, the knife in his boot would afford only so much protection. The best he could say was that he himself was uninjured.

Shifting onto his knees, he peered from the scrub brush that concealed him, searching the field for something to improve his lot. There were several riderless horses, for the moment being ignored by the orcs, though if the enemy won he was sure some of the poor creatures would become supper this night. A mount was good, but a sword was essential. Unarmed on horseback all he could do was flee, and that he would not do.

Crawling carefully to his left, he tried to get a better vantage around Tungol. He was not the only fallen rider; several of his companions lay still and bleeding, less fortunate than he had been. Cadda was sprawled in a twisted heap, his eyes staring unseeingly at Eomer's hiding spot, and for a moment he allowed grief to tinge this heart. They had grown up together after he moved to Edoras. Along with Eothain and Aldfrid, Cadda was one of his first friends in his new home. His jaw tightened – he could mourn later, if he survived, but right now there were more urgent matters that needed his attention.

Then he saw it. Partially beneath Cadda's limp body was the sword he had borne. An orc dashed by just then, causing Eomer to shrink swiftly back out of sight, but as it screeched away from him, it took no notice of his presence. Already a Rider had moved to pursue, quickly sending an arrow deep into the creature's back before hastening on to the next.

Now was his chance, with little fighting taking place nearby. Keeping low, he shoved to his feet and bolted for Cadda's body to tug the sword free. Wheeling about, his eyes scanned the vicinity and he spotted Cadda's horse, Sunnstrel, circling in confusion near its fallen master. That seemed his likeliest bet, as there were none nearer, but as he moved to catch the horse, two more orcs appeared, forcing him to turn and parry their blows. It was a challenge fighting two at once, especially on foot, but the blood rushing in his ears pounded a reminder of Cadda's frozen gaze, and he slashed at them with a ferocity they could not withstand until both lay dead.

Not pausing for an instant, he moved again toward Sunnstrel, talking soothingly. The horse knew him and so allowed his approach, though he danced with agitation when Eomer swung quickly into the saddle. "Easy, easy," Eomer soothed, stroking the tense neck in front of him. He well knew that Rohirric horses did not like any but their masters riding them, but Sunnstrel would have to accept a new rider now, and together they would make these beasts pay dearly for Cadda's life.

As the horse settled beneath him, Eomer turned into battle once more. Let this day be won and then he could think about tomorrow – about carrying the news to Cadda's family and grieving with them. The overcast sky that had been threatening rain since break of fast, now opened up. Realizing that mud would put them at a disadvantage to the Riders, the orcs began to retreat, but Eomer did not let up his attack. Left and right, he disposed of them with fierce precision. Only when he heard the horn sound, calling the Riders to fall back, did he stay his sword.

He was breathing almost as heavily as his mount, but Eomer gave no thought to his tiredness or the cold beginning to seep into him from the drenching rain. He nudged the horse back to Cadda's side and dismounted, throwing his friend's cloak over his body with respect. He and Sunnstrel stood gazing down on the mound before them for several long minutes.

And, then, his eyes fell one last time on Tungol, and he slowly moved over to kneel beside him. They had been set upon by three orcs, and while he had been dealing with the two on the right the third had managed a death blow to Tungol's unprotected neck. Bad enough that, but then his sword blade broke while killing the two, leaving him with just a jagged fragment in the hilt. Before he could react, the orc on his left also slashed the horse's foreleg, and Tungol gave out a groan as he crashed heavily to the earth. Unbalanced by it, Eomer had thought for a moment that the orc might have him, but Tungol fell away from their attacker, buying him a few precious seconds. And in that instant, a powerful sword stroke from a passing Rider had separated the orc's head from its body. Elfhelm. Whether he was protecting Eomer or merely dispatching an enemy, Eomer did not know, for he rode past at a gallop and did not look back. Eomer had no doubt that the sacrifice of Tungol's life had spared his own. He let his hand rest on the still warm neck, a final caress in parting.

That young horse he had been bringing along, Firefoot – it looked as though it was time for him to step up as Eomer's battle mount. He could only hope Firefoot would prove as faithful. Without conscious thought, Eomer drew his dagger and moved to Tungol's haunches. An instant later, the horse's long tail was in his hand. He was not sure why he wished to keep it, but he wanted to always remember the friend who had served him so well. Carefully he tucked the white horsetail into his belt and turned away.

"_Then one rode forward, a tall man, taller than all the rest; from his helm as a crest a white horsetail flowed." - JRRT_

THE END

5-28-11

Tungol – "star"

Sunnstrel – "sun dart"

3008 – Firefoot born

_**3002 – Eomund killed by orcs, Theodwyn died soon after; Eomer and Eowyn go to live at Meduseld (Eom-11; Eow-7)**_

_**3014 – King Theoden begins to fall under Grima's influence (Eom-23; Eow-19)**_

_**3017 – Eomer made Third Marshal (Eom-26; Eow-22)**_


	7. Bridges

Theoden struggles in developing a relationship with his nephew.

_**Eomer Chronicles 7. The total number will depend on how many ideas I get for new vignettes.**_

_**A/N: As you probably know by now, I've been struggling with writing lately, but Turwaithien read these Chronicles recently and remarked that she'd like to see something on the relationship between Eomer and Theoden. Guess that idea stuck in my head, and this finally appeared.**_

**Bridges**

**(Edoras, late May, 3003 III)**

"My lord?"

Theoden roused from his reverie. He had been watching his nephew depart through the large doors at the other end of the Great Hall, and became inattentive to his steward.

"I am sorry. My mind was elsewhere. We are finished, unless you have something more to discuss."

The man gave a respectful bow and moved away, but already Theoden's thoughts had turned again to his musings.

What to do about Eomer, that was the question. Theoden sighed heavily. Eowyn was beginning to settle, though she still clung to Eomer and always wanted to be with him. But she was speaking more, and the king sensed a resiliance in the child that would see her through this.

Eomer was another matter. The lad carried a heavy weight on his young shoulders, put there entirely by himself. He accepted some help from his kin, but seemed to believe he must be a man now, and take full responsibility for his and Eowyn's well-being. Theoden also sensed a deep anger in the boy, and he could readily understand it. His life had been torn apart and there was frustratingly little that he could do about it. He was not old enough to seek his revenge on the orcs who killed his father, or even work off his turmoil in intense battle training. His lessons did not fully engage his mind, or provide an outlet for the unrest inside him. That flight to Aldburg had been a desperate cry for normalcy in his life, and Theoden did not know how to give it to him.

He had tried talking to him, making time to be with him, but there was always a restraint in Eomer. He was holding back his emotions and thoughts, perhaps fearful of being wounded further if he trusted…or loved again.

Well, the very least he could do for Theodwyn was to care for her son as if he were his own. He would not allow the difficulty of the situation to make him give up. Perhaps it would merely take time for the boy to become confident in their affections for him, and believe that he could return them without fear.

"Father?"

He blinked in surprise, glancing up. "Oh, Theodred. I did not know you had returned. All is well in the Westfold?"

"Yes," Theodred answered slowly, eyeing his father with curiosity. "Are _you_ well?"

The king smiled at his son. "I am." He rose to lay a hand on the young man's shoulder. "I am merely trying to determine how to help Eomer…adjust. He has been through so much, yet I feel he distances himself from us. I would have him feel at home here, and at ease with us."

Theodred nodded, his expression solemn. "I have noticed. I try to encourage his speaking of his concerns, but he will not be drawn out."

They stood in silence for several minutes, until Theodred announced, "Perhaps he would like to learn to carve wood. I know that has been a restful pastime for me. Maybe it would help settle his fretful thoughts if he is able to concentrate on something outside himself."

Theoden nodded his approval. "A good idea. As for me…" A sudden inspiration came to him. "Eomund said the boy was good with horses. Perhaps it is time that he has his own to train. That, too, would give him an occupation for his time and energy."

"A better use of it than trips to Aldburg?" Theodred asked pointedly.

"Indeed!" Theoden chuckled, then sobered. "I tried not to have him think I was angry with him about that, but I am not sure that I succeeded. He seems even more wary of me now than before. I must find some way to gain his trust."

"You will, Father, I have no doubt. Eomer is much like his father was, and Eomund did not trust easily either. In many ways, Eomer has even greater reason not to do so, but between us we will make him see that he can and should."

They walked to Theoden's study, their talk turning to matters in the Westfold, but Theoden kept his decision in the back of his mind. Early the next morning, he arranged for certain horses to be placed in the small paddock just outside the royal stables. Satisfied, he joined the family for the morning meal. It was a fairly quiet affair. Theodred talked cheerfully, as was his wont, but Eomer remained mostly silent save for when he was directly spoken to or asked a question. Occasionally Eowyn would chime in, but Theoden could not say that the meal was without strain.

When it was clear that everyone was finished, Theoden signaled their dismissal, but then as he rose, asked, "Eomer, will you walk with me?"

The boy looked uncertainly at him, surprised by the request, and Eowyn clearly was about to ask to join them. However, Theodred had discerned his father's purpose and interceded. "Eowyn, shall we go for an early ride before I must be about my day?"

The girl's eyes lit up at the offer and she readily consented, allowing Theodred to lead her from the room, though she cast a worried look back at her brother. Eomer tried to reassure her with a smile, even though he did not feel very assured at the moment. But the king's question hung in the air, and he must answer. "Of…of course, Uncle. If you wish it."

Theoden kept his expression impassive and gestured to the boy, laying an arm about his shoulders as they exited the chamber to the Hall. They walked in silence the length of it, Theoden waving off his steward who would have joined them. Eomer continued to steal worried glances at his uncle, though he dared not speak or ask the reason for this audience.

They had exited onto the front terrace and started down the steps before Theoden spoke. "I fear sometimes my duty as king does not allow me so much time with my family as I would wish. I would not have you or Eowyn feel neglected by me."

This declaration seemed to call for some response on his part, and Eomer respectfully replied, "We do not feel neglected, Uncle. We know you are busy."

Careful, polite remarks, and not what Theoden was seeking. They strode to the small paddock that contained several horses, and Theoden came to a stop, leaning on the fence to pensively watch the animals mill about the enclosure.

Eomer mimicked his posture and tried not to worry about the reason his uncle might have singled him out for conversation. He still was not sure that the king wasn't angry with him. He knew he shouldn't have ridden to Aldburg on his own, but he was jumping out of his own skin lately, and simply had to run…somewhere. Aldburg was the only place he could think to go. And, yet, when he got there, he had not found solace. He had worried the entire time about what Theoden would say and do when he was discovered missing, he had worried about leaving Eowyn, and in the end he was almost glad when the king came to retrieve him. He could have hoped it was Theodred instead of his uncle, as Theodred seemed more easygoing and understanding, but that had not been the case. The king _said_ he was not angry, but Eomer did not feel assured that was so.

Finally, Theoden seemed ready to explain why they had come here. Turning to look at the boy, he said simply, "Eomer, I cannot promise you that those you love will never die. Already you know that is not true. But you cannot let that knowledge make you afraid to care about others, fearful of losing them as you have lost your parents. Whatever else you know, or even just believe, know this – I love both you and your sister as if you were my own children. I will continue to love you so long as I draw conscious breath, and Theodred feels just the same. The loss of his mother at his birth meant he had no opportunity for brothers or sisters, and though he is quite a bit older, he does desire to have you and Eowyn consider him a brother."

Eomer's jaw tightened and he looked away, to follow the movements of the horses rather than meet his uncle's gaze. It was difficult to contain his emotions, but Eowyn was counting on him to care for them now. He must be a man, and men did not show weakness with tears.

Theoden's arm came around his shoulder again, noting the slight tremor as he did, and then said quietly, "I do not ask to replace your parents; you loved them dearly, as did I. But neither would I have you believe that you are alone in the world save for Eowyn. _We_ are here for you; _we_ will care for you for as long as we are able. You may hold to that when the world seems an uncertain place. And if anything were to happen to you, we would be there for Eowyn, just as we would for you, if she were taken from us." He sighed heavily and added, "I would not see you struggle so with the burdens you have taken on yourself. I am sure my sister asked you to look after Eowyn, but I know she did not mean for you to do it all on your own. She laid that same charge on _me_, to look after both of you. And I do not regret having agreed to it."

Eomer swallowed hard, his eyes swimming with the tears he would not let fall, but Theoden looked away, giving him time to recover. After several minutes had passed in silence, Theoden gestured into the paddock. "The dark gray colt there, over by that post. He is a son of my own Snowmane, and I have named him Tungol. Your father often spoke proudly of how accomplished you are with horses, and he fully intended to find a good mount for you. I think perhaps Tungol might suit you, if you would be interested in taking on his training."

The boy's head jerked around to stare at Theoden, and then quickly turned back to the horse. It was overwhelming to think he was being given his own horse, and one he could train all on his own. After a moment, though, he honestly admitted, "I…I am not sure I know enough to train him on my own."

"Perhaps not," Theoden replied with a shrug, detecting the reluctance in the lad's voice at confessing he might not be equal to the task, "but Theodred will help whenever he is at Edoras, and there are plenty of men in the stables with much experience. They will help you when you need it."

Eomer brightened at the renewed hope, his mind already forming ideas on how to proceed. After a moment, he climbed the fence and dropped into the paddock, moving slowly over to the colt to take a closer look, and Theoden smiled as he watched the boy's eagerness.

Yes, this had been a very inspired idea. There were still likely to be difficult patches ahead in their relationship, but he had the feeling this one act alone might build a bridge more quickly than any other. He chuckled to himself; _his_ hope had been renewed as well.

THE END

5/15/12 – 5/31/12

Tungol – "star"


	8. Flight

_Eomer tries to run from his troubles._

_**Eomer Chronicles 8. The total number will depend on how many ideas I get for new vignettes.**_

_**A/N: Guess the Chronicle I just posted recently brought this to mind also. Whoo hoo! Two in a row!**_

**Flight**

**(Edoras, early May, 3003 III)**

"You sure about this?" Eothain's eyes flicked nervously around, making certain they had not been noticed, then settled back on Eomer.

The other lad nodded. "Yes. I…I must go. I cannot stay here." There was a note of pleading for understanding in Eomer's voice, though he had not spoken an actual reason.

After a moment, Eothain nodded. "With my old clothes on, the guards will not take much notice of you, and I am allowed to go out riding on the barrowfields. We leave together just before the guard changes, and after a good long while I will return. If we are fortunate, the new guards will not know there should be two of us."

Eomer gathered the reins of the horse Eothain had managed to get for him, swallowing hard to quell the excitement – and panic – sending spasms through his stomach. Without a word, the boys mounted and departed once Eothain had determined there was no one near who might challenge them. Eomer carefully fell in on the side of his friend that would be farthest from the guards, though he was not sure they would recognize him anyway. Eothain's clothes were baggy on him and he had carefully mussed his hair and smudged his face with dirt to disguise his features.

As they drew near the gate, the guards looked at them with mild interest, but Eothain gave them a friendly wave and they were permitted to pass on through. "Do not go far," one of the guards cautioned, and Eothain waved again in acknowledgement.

They trotted along until they were safely out of view of the gate guards, and then drew to a halt. _This is it_, Eomer thought.

"Be…be careful," Eothain warned. "My father says the orcs are becoming bolder. So far they have stayed away from the bigger towns, but you might still meet some on the road, and it is a long way to Aldburg."

"Orcs do not like the daylight," Eomer replied, with false confidence. "And I will be there before nightfall. I should be safe enough." He fished at the back of his waist, under his shirt, and drew forth a sheathed dagger. "And I snuck this from Theodred's room, in case I need it."

Eothain chewed his lip in silence, then finally said, "Good luck, Eomer."

There seemed to be nothing more to say, and Eomer had no reason to delay longer. To do so would increase the chances of his being caught. "Thank you for your help. I will see that the horse gets back to you."

Eothain watched for a long time as Eomer slowly disappeared into the distance. He was probably going to get into a good deal of trouble for this, but no matter. His father had always stressed that you stood by your friends, even at difficult times. Eomer said he needed to do this, and that was good enough for Eothain.

He just hoped nothing would happen to his friend on the road. The possibility of orcs still worried him. He had heard enough of them from his father to know they were fearsome creatures. All the men hated them vehemently. But Eomer was on a good horse – probably he could outrun them if he did meet up with any. Yes, his friend would probably be safe. Probably.

At first, Eomer kept up a hard gallop, intent only on putting as much distance as possible between him and Edoras before he might be discovered missing. He couldn't be sure when exactly that would happen, though luckily only Eothain knew where he was going and so it would take pursuers time to figure it out.

After a league, though, he drew to a walk for a time. He was too much a horseman even at so young an age to misuse his mount. Now that he had slowed, he could enjoy the unexpected freedom and was more aware of the country around him. If he stayed on the road, it would be difficult for anyone to approach him without being seen. That ought to give him warning if there _were_ any orcs around. Another reason not to overtax his horse – he wanted him fresh enough to outrun them if it became necessary.

For the next hour Eomer varied his pace, all his senses attuned to getting to Aldburg, getting _home_. It wasn't that he disliked Edoras, or that his uncle and cousin didn't care for him – it was not so. But ever since coming to Meduseld after his mother died, something had churned inside him, seeking release. He couldn't put words to it, so how could he explain it to others if not to himself? Theodred encouraged his confidences, but he could not seem to let down his guard. To do so meant you could be hurt, it meant pain, and he had already had more than enough of that.

He was grateful that Eothain had so willingly helped him, as he was not sure he could have done it on his own. There would have been no way to sneak a horse from his uncle's stables, and a guard would have been sent with him if anyone knew he was going outside the gates.

For all that he had bloodied Eothain and blacked his eye on their first encounter, he had become a true friend. Certainly his sticking his neck out to do this proved it. Whatever it took, Eomer would find some way to repay him. Such friends as that were rare. He just hoped Eothain wouldn't be in too much trouble when Eomer's absence was discovered.

xxx

"Where is Eomer?" Eowyn asked insistently, and the nurse shook her head in irritation.

"I have told you, child, I do not know where your brother is. Likely he is off playing with his friends. He will be home by supper, I am sure. Now, eat your dinner."

Theoden was entering the chamber and caught the conversation. "Eomer is not here?" he asked.

The nurse instantly became more formal. "No, my lord. I believe he went to play with his friends after breakfast. Likely he is taking his meal with one of them."

Theoden nodded as he sat down next to Eowyn, giving her a warm smile. "So, it is just the two of us? A rare treat! What have you been doing today, Eowyn?"

Distracted by the attention, Eowyn began telling of her morning activities as Theoden dished his plate with food. Even as he listened, though, a niggle of concern settled at the back of his mind. Eomer had kept his thoughts to himself ever since arriving here, and would not let them into his confidence, so it was difficult knowing what was going on in the boy's head. Yet, Theoden sensed his unrest, an anger and frustration bubbling below the surface and seeking an outlet. For all his reserve, though, Eomer had ever been polite and dutiful. If he was not to be here for a meal, Theoden would have expected him to send word of his whereabouts. It concerned him that such had not happened this time as it had in the past.

With the meal ending and her own tales told, Eowyn's thoughts turned again to her brother, and she voiced it once more. "But where is Eomer, Uncle? I want to see him!"

"I know, little one, but he is off playing. We will see him at supper. I suppose we must find other things to occupy our time until then. And I believe you have some lessons that will keep you busy this afternoon."

Eowyn's face reflected her annoyance at having to do lessons while Eomer was off playing, but she managed to keep silent and do as she was told. She was not yet confident enough to challenge her uncle or cousin on anything they told her to do, and Mama had always told her she must be respectful of the King.

The nurse led Eowyn away, her frown expressing her displeasure even if she dared say nothing, but Theoden had already struck off for his study. Calling to his steward, he instructed, "Find Hama and send him to me."

Moments later, Hama stood in the doorway. "You sent for me, my lord?"

"Yes, Hama. Eomer did not join us for dinner. Probably there is no cause for alarm, but would you have someone look around and find out where the lad is, just in case?"

"Of course, my lord." He moved quickly away, back to the Hall and signaled to one of his men. "Garmund, does not the king's nephew sometimes spend time with your son?"

"He does, my lord," Garmund acknowledged.

"Would you go and see if they are together, and that all is well? The king is wondering why Eomer did not come for the noon meal, or send word that he would be absent."

"I will look into it," Garmund replied, with a short bow.

It did not take long for him to reach his home, but neither boy was there and his wife advised they had asked for some food to take on a picnic. A check of the stables showed that their two horses were missing. Although nothing seemed amiss in any of this, Garmund had an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach that all was not as it seemed. He set off for the gate, though surely the guards would not allow Eomer to leave without a guard.

The two men who greeted him acknowledged that his son had been riding on the barrowfields, and returned a short while ago, but he had been alone. After thanking them, Garmund started the trek back up the hill, but stopped to gaze around him, rubbing his jaw. Something was amiss. He felt sure of it. A thought struck him, and he headed for the guard hut, to learn who had been on duty when his son went outside the gates. Once he had the names, he headed for the nearest man's house.

If he was surprised at the visit from Garmund, he did not remark on it, merely inviting him inside. Garmund declined, but pursued his purpose, "My son went out on the barrowfields this morning while you were on watch. Was he alone?"

"No, my lord. There was another boy with him, one I did not recognize." He shifted nervously, wondering if something were the matter and he was in trouble.

"Hmmm. Thank you," Garmund told him absentmindedly, turning away. He was not liking the look of this at all.

It took awhile to locate Eothain within the town, but at length Garmund found him with Cadda and Aldfrid. He could not miss the guilty expression on his son's face when he saw his father coming to him in the middle of the day. He rose slowly from the game they had been playing, and the other boys eyed them questioningly from where they squatted on the ground.

Garmund gestured for his son to step away from the others, and they walked a few feet down the road for a little privacy. Coming to a stop, Garmund caught his son's shoulder, turning Eothain to face him and looking him squarely in the eye. "The king's nephew, Eomer, has gone missing, Eothain. Is he not a friend of yours?"

"Y…yes," Eothain admitted reluctantly, but unwilling to lie. He offered nothing more.

"Theoden is very worried about him, son. What do you know of Eomer's whereabouts?" Garmund persisted, intuitively certain his son was not innocent in this matter, even if the evidence hadn't already implicated him.

"I…he is gone to Aldburg," Eothain confessed on a sigh. "He is my friend," he added defiantly. "He said he must go, and so I helped him."

Garmund rubbed his face wearily. Of course. Some thought Eothain was a bully because of his size, but in truth the lad had a big heart. Still, the king would not be pleased. However, at least they knew where to look, and that was something. "I will talk with you more about this later," Garmund said, turning away. Chastisement could wait; they needed to find Eomer before anything could happen to him. The boys did not understand how dangerous this undertaking truly was.

xxx

Eomer had stopped to eat his meager provisions of bread and cheese when he heard them. At first he did not understand what the tramping sound indicated, but some inner voice told him to hide quickly, and he heeded it without conscious thought. Concealed in a thick clump of bushes, Eomer kept a hand over the horse's nose to keep him silent as he peered out. In only a few moments, a group of some dozen creatures jogged into view. They were scabby, foul things and he knew at once that these were the orcs his father so often spoke of, and had died fighting.

At the sight of them, Eomer's blood roared in his ears, filling him with a rage at all the pain and trouble they had cost him. He wanted nothing more than to charge forth from his hiding place and slay them all. But in the next moment, he calmed, knowing instinctively how foolish such an act would be. He had seen what they did to his father's body, Eomund who'd had a sword in his hand and an eored of men behind him. One boy with a knife would stand no chance at all. To act foolishly would only mean causing Eowyn more pain when she learned of his death. No, he must avoid them…for now. When he was ready, when he had trained and was prepared, then he would make them pay.

They took no notice of his hiding place, but trotted past in tight formation, intent on wherever they were going. As soon as they were gone from sight, and he could no longer hear their footfall, he remounted and hastened onward. It was mid-afternoon when he reached the gates of Aldburg. The gate guards let him pass, eyeing him curiously that such a young lad would be traveling alone, but better that he was inside than out in these times.

Now that he was here, Eomer was a little uncertain how to proceed. His home was here, yes, but he suspected Betersel would send word to the king of his presence if he showed himself, and he did not wish that. He knew there was an empty barn on the far side of the town. The owner had died and none of his family presently lived in the house or used the barn. That would make a good place to put his mount for now.

There was still some old, dusty hay in the barn, and he shook it to knock the worst of the dust out before giving it to the horse, along with a bucket of fresh water from the well. He settled down on a forgotten crate to consider his situation.

When he decided to flee Edoras and come here, he had not really given much thought to what he would do when he arrived. He had only known that he wanted to go home. Now that he was here, he was a bit at a loss for his next move. Possibly by now they would know he was missing. He hadn't sent word about not joining them for dinner so that would raise questions. When he didn't turn up for supper, they would be sure to start looking for him. How long would it take before they thought to question Eothain? He couldn't expect his friend to lie for him, and get into worse trouble, so they would eventually know his destination.

What would happen then? Would guards be sent to drag him back? His jaw tightened with determination, rebelling at the very idea, but unsure what he could do to prevent it if it happened. He had no quarrel with his kin; they had shown him only kindness, but they were not his parents. Eomer was the one given the charge to care for Eowyn, not them, and he must find a way to do it, though he had no clue how to proceed.

His stomach grumbled, and he felt how little he had eaten today. When it was dark, he could go to his house and sneak in – he well knew where he could slip in or out unnoticed. Once the kitchen settled for the night he would be able to get some food there. The upper garret room was never used except for storage. He could hide up there for awhile and likely no one would think to check.

He pushed aside the thought that he was only postponing the inevitable, that they would surely find him in the end and he would be made to go back. In all honesty, he knew he must go back. Eowyn was there, and was depending on him. He couldn't abandon her. With a heavy sigh, he leaned his head back against the wall and closed his eyes. Life was so very complicated, and he saw no solutions to…anything.

xxx

The king looked up as Hama entered with Garmund close behind him. "My lord, we have determined where Eomer is, but you will not like it," Hama said solemnly, gesturing for Garmund to explain.

"My lord, I am very sorry, but it appears Eomer wished to go to Aldburg, and my son helped him to get a horse and leave Edoras undetected. He has been gone since shortly before the noon hour," Garmund offered, looking worried as to the repercussions of his words.

The king rubbed fretfully at his forehead. "I should have known. I should have seen it coming. He has not been happy, and I think only the winter weather likely kept him from attempting this sooner."

"My lord," Garmund said, "I will take some men and go at once to bring him home."

"No," Theoden replied, looking up at him. "No, I must go. I will not have him dragged back like some prisoner guilty of a crime. I must speak with him and persuade him to return with me."

"I am so very sorry, my lord," Garmund said, regretfully. "My son will be sorely punished for his part in this."

"No, the blame is not his," Theoden argued, holding up a hand to forestall Garmund's protest. "I am grateful the boy gave him a horse, else he might have attempted this on foot. At least mounted, there is some chance he made it safely. There is not much we can do tonight, but I want to ride at first light. Garmund, you will bring an escort of six men, and your son. He has been friendly with Eomer and so he may be of use to us."

Garmund nodded his understanding of the orders as the king resumed his seat, and Hama signaled for Garmund to take his leave. "Have you further need of me, Sire?"

"Just make sure all is in readiness for tomorrow, Hama. And send Eowyn to me," the king sighed tiredly, unheeding when his doorward left the room. How had things gotten so far out of hand?

xxx

Eomer must have fallen asleep for he awoke some time later, stiff and sore from the awkward position he was in. The barn was in darkness, and it took a few moments for his eyes to adjust and be able to make out the shadowy form of his horse and the furnishings of the building. He carefully made his way to the door and saw that the moon was already rising, and the town was mostly silent. Likely families were settling down to their supper, a thought that made his stomach growl once more, partially disguising the twinge of loneliness and despair that the notion caused.

After he had waited what seemed an acceptable period, Eomer quietly exited the barn and slipped through the shadows toward the large manor house near the front of the town. There would probably still be a guard at the entrance, but more than once he had scrambled over a back wall, making use of a convenient tree. From there, the vines provided handholds to ease himself to the ground, where he landed lightly, looking around to make sure he was not discovered. Satisfied that nothing disturbed the stillness of the night, he scurried to the cellar door. It could be entered from inside the house or out, and the inside entrance was in the back part of the kitchen where it was out of the way. He grabbed a couple of wrinkly winter apples and shoved them in his pockets for later. Much as he was tempted to eat one now, he feared the smell might catch someone's attention.

A maid was still washing a few dishes in the kitchen, so he settled on the steps to wait for her to leave. It took more than a quarter hour by his estimate before she finished and doused the lanterns as she left the room. He waited a bit longer to make sure neither she nor anyone else returned, and then crept in. He had snuck into the kitchen often enough that he could readily make his way around in the semi-darkness. Luckily the rising moon coming through the window was mostly full tonight, making it easier for him to collect food and stuff it into a little-used hamper that had been stored in the cellar.

Once he had food, the next task was to get up to the uppermost floors without being seen. That was trickier, but not impossible. When his family had been in residence, there were more servants bustling about, but now only a minimal staff remained. He had overheard Theoden discussing whether to close the house entirely, but as yet no firm decision had been reached. His stomach clenched at the thought – closing the house would be as though even more of him had died.

With careful forays from floor to floor, ducking into empty rooms or behind curtains as needed, he reached the garret, breathing a sigh of relief. Somehow the moon seemed even brighter up here, and he stood for several long moments gazing out at it and feeling very alone. If nothing else, Eowyn would have missed him by now. He was sorry for the distress he was causing her, but he could never have managed this if he brought her along. Surely she would be fine until he was able to return, though even he did not know when that would be or under what circumstances.

He turned from the window and settled on a dusty chair, pulling the hamper closer and fishing out some cold meat to chew on. He would need to eat sparingly, as he didn't want to have to get more food too soon. Cook would likely notice if too much food went missing all at once. _Cook_. How he longed for one of her hot apple tarts, covered in cream! She had known how much he liked them and tried to make them at least a couple of times each month just to see his grin of pleasure. He had missed her, and Betersel, and several others these past few months. They had virtually been a part of his family, too, and going to live in Edoras meant being torn from them also.

Despite his earlier nap, he found he was still very tired after his day's efforts. At least an hour had passed while he ate and reminisced about life at Aldburg, so probably most would have retired to their rooms by now. If he was very quiet, he should be able to creep down and find a pillow and blankets to sleep on.

His excursion through the halls went without mishap, save one moment when Betersel had suddenly come upstairs for something and almost caught him out. She had paused, looking around at the head of the stairs and he thought she must have seen or heard him, but then she moved on, and returned downstairs soon after. He let out an unsteady breath, not having realized he was holding it. Part of him had almost wanted her to find him. Betersel was the head housekeeper, but she had cared for Eomer and his sister as if they were her own children, both before Theodwyn took ill, but especially after. It would have felt very good to have her enfold him in her arms and assure him all would be well.

But he could not risk it. She would feel obligated to notify his uncle, hastening his being returned to Edoras. No, he did not want to get her into trouble on his account. Bad enough that he'd had to involve Eothain in it.

His feet knew well the path to his old room. He had not seen it since that day Uncle Theoden had come to take them to Meduseld. Inexplicably, he felt some hesitation as he stood at the door, but he squared his shoulders and slipped inside. He could make out the shape of a candle holder on the dresser, a candle stub still in it. Once his eyes adjusted to the shadows, he went to the bed and pulled the blanket out. He loaded his pillow and the candle holder into it, then went to the dresser. Most of his clothes had gone with him to Edoras, but there were some older shirts and pants that had been left behind. He collected them also, figuring he would eventually need a change of clothing.

Once he was finished, he sat down on the side of the bed and looked around. This room had been a haven for most of his life, but now it felt cold and unwelcoming. Maybe he didn't truly have a home anymore, if Edoras felt strange and Aldburg no longer claimed him. His mother used to say that home was where the heart was, but at the moment he did not know where precisely that was for him. Perhaps his heart had gone to the Halls of Waiting when his parents left, and now he would only find dwellings here, but not a home.

His morose thoughts were bringing tears to his eyes, and he refused to yield. Rising, he gathered his bundle and slipped out of the room, closing the door with finality. It did not take long to make his way back to the garret. After looking around for several minutes, he was able to locate an old cracked wash basin. He set a scrap of fabric in the bottom and pulled out the flint his father had given him so long ago. It was trickier doing in such darkness, but he finally managed to strike a spark that smoldered on the fabric, and from it he got the candle lit. The light made the room slightly cheerier as it drove back the shadows. He watched the friendly flame dancing in the drafts, a small smile tweaking his mouth.

After awhile, he got the blankets and laid out a bed on the floor. He stretched out on his back, staring at the ceiling overhead, but not allowing himself to think. At length, he rolled over and blew out the candle. He would need to use it sparingly, and try to find more, or it would not last long. As he settled back, not thinking he would be able to sleep, his eyes drooped close and he dropped off more quickly than he would have expected.

xxx

The sun was not yet clear of the mountains when Theoden descended the steps to meet the waiting party. Eothain stood nervously beside his father, shivering slightly in the cool morning air. Theoden eyed him thoughtfully. Eomer had never said what the argument was about, but the king had learned it was Eothain who had given his nephew the black eye and bloody nose soon after the children came to Edoras. He might have spoken to Garmund about it, except that from that point on, Eomer seemed to spend a great deal of his time in the other lad's company. Clearly, whatever their disagreement, they had thrashed it out and made peace. He had been glad to know the boy had made a friend, despite the circumstances, but apparently even that had not been enough to ease his adjustment to his new home.

The boy looked rather frightened by his perusal, so he gave a friendly smile. "Thank you for joining us, Eothain. I understand you have been a good friend to Eomer. Please know that I am not angry with you, though I am not pleased about what Eomer has undertaken. As difficult as it is for him, he must live here now."

Eothain chewed his lip, but nodded, looking somewhat relieved by the king's words.

"Mount up," Theoden instructed, as it appeared all were ready.

xxx

Eomer awoke slowly, wondering why his bed felt so hard. Then he scowled as he took in the unfamiliar walls around him. After a moment, his sleep-fogged mind cleared and he remembered where he was. He sat up with a groan; he hadn't realized how uncomfortable it was sleeping on the floor rather than a bed.

Only now did he realize that he had failed to get any water during his forays in the night. He could have used a good splash of it in his face to help wake up, and now that he had thought of it he suddenly felt very thirsty. There was nothing to be done, though. He couldn't worry about that until nightfall came again.

With nothing better to do, he changed into some of his old clothes, and then settled back in the chair to eat his meager breakfast. His hunger exceeded what he felt it was safe to eat, but he dared not press his rations too far. At least the apples he'd obtained helped a little with his thirst.

The morning passed at a snail's pace. He had a fix on where the sun was in the sky, and it seemed to barely move at all despite his constant checking. A little time was consumed exploring the garret, to see what it might hold that could be of use to him. Very little, as it turned out: some old furniture, his parents' clothing stored away, but nothing much for the here and now of his situation.

He thought about Eowyn as he looked at some old toys, and wondered how she was faring. They would surely know by now that he was gone. Was someone on their way here already to get him? It was possible they hadn't learned of Eothain's involvement, and if not, then they might not know where he had gone. Still, where else would he go? Aldburg and Edoras were really the only places in the small world of his youth. They lived here and they visited his uncle there. Those places and the road in between were the sum of his experience.

He stretched out on his makeshift bed once more, face down on his stomach, his chin resting on his crossed arms. All things considered, hiding in the garret of his old home was…boring. He was used to being outside most of the day, free to roam the town if not leave it entirely. At least at Edoras he could spend time doing things with Eothain and the others. He rubbed his grumbling stomach ruefully; meals were plentiful and consistent also. Neither of the two garret windows faced the town, so he could not observe what was taking place there either. Plus, if he moved around too much, he might be heard, and then someone would come to locate the source of the noise.

Being in Aldburg was not so pleasing as wanting to be in Aldburg. He dared not venture forth to find any of his friends; during the day, just leaving the house without being noticed would be a challenge. And if anyone saw him around town, there would surely be questions. If word got back to Betersel that he had been sighted, she would come looking for him, he was sure, and Theoden's men would not be far behind her. His beloved home had become a prison to him.

What would he do about the horse? The animal would need food and water eventually, and the stall must be cleaned. Eomer supposed he could wait until after dark and slip out then to do it. Only now was he realizing how little he had thought through this whole adventure.

Worse yet, he had not found the solace here he had been seeking. He had thought just coming home would bring him peace, but all the worries of being caught, and what he needed to do to conceal himself while still doing the essential things, were more an adding to his burden than an easing of it. A tear trickled from the corner of his eye before he could stop it, and the next moment he was sobbing uncontrollably.

xxx

"My lord!" Betersel exclaimed, as she recognized their visitor. "We were not expecting you! Do come in." She gestured toward the house after favoring the king with a quick curtsy.

With the other servants standing around, listening curiously, Theoden decided not to announce his purpose just then. "Garmund, have the horses seen to and then check with the cook. I am sure she can find something for the men to eat since breakfast was so hurried."

The captain nodded, as Theoden strode toward the house, Betersel scurrying to keep up with him. Once inside the entrance hall, Theoden waved her to follow and led the way to Eomund's study. "Close the door, please, Betersel."

She did so and he motioned to a chair for her to be seated as he settled behind the desk. For a moment, he glanced around the room, filled with memories of its former occupant, before he rubbed wearily at his face. "I have come about Eomer. I have reason to believe he rode to Aldburg yesterday, and hopefully he is within the town somewhere. I would think he would come here eventually. I do not suppose you have seen him."

Betersel's eyebrows knit together and she shook her head. "No, my lord, but…"

"Yes?"

"Cook said she thought there was some food missing this morning. I paid little attention to it, thinking someone merely got hungry and had a late meal, but perhaps there is another explanation. And, last night, when I went upstairs to fetch something I left up there, I had a feeling…well, I cannot explain it, but I sensed that someone was there."

Theoden nodded. "Indeed." He looked upward, thoughtfully. "He could not stay in his own room without being noticed, though perhaps he was in there looking for something. The garret, maybe?"

"It is possible, my lord. Eomer knows this house well. If I had to guess, I would think he snuck in through the cellar. From there, he would know all the hallways and passages to sneak upstairs without being seen." She paused, then asked, "Shall I show you the way?"

Theoden sighed and shoved to his feet. "Thank you, but I know the way, and I think it best that I go alone. We will need to talk in private."

She rose also and nodded. "Is there anything you would like before you go? Food?"

At her question, he paused thoughtfully. "Perhaps fix food for me to take up with me. He cannot have had much to eat or drink since yesterday."

She curtsied again and went out the door to fill the request, and Theoden sat on the corner of the desk, wondering what to say to the boy when they were together. He supposed he would simply have to speak from the heart and hope that the proper words came to him in the moment.

A quarter of an hour later, hamper of food and drink in hand, Theoden climbed to the upper most floor. He did not purposely try to be quiet, but as he reached the garret door, he realized he had made little noise and so Eomer, if he was there, likely would not know he was coming.

The opening of the garret door instantly brought Theoden and Eomer face to face. Eomer was gazing out the window, lost in thought when it happened, and he was so startled that for an instant it almost seemed he was lost in a daydream, it was so unreal. Then with a rush came the recognition of who stood before him, and he knew it was no dream.

There was an unexpected mingling of pleasure and horror that the King had been the one to come fetch him back. He'd thought there was a slim possibility that Theodred would be the one sent to retrieve him, but he had never expected it to be the king himself. That momentary pleasure, though, was tempered with a sudden onset of fear, and guilt. The king's presence might mean he was in worse trouble than he had imagined, especially since he surely did not have the time to go chasing across the land after wayward nephews.

Neither spoke for several minutes, but then Theoden moved into the room, closing the door behind him. He noted the tear streaked dirty face of his nephew, clearly indicating all was still not well with the boy. Spotting the chair Eomer had been using, he settled in it and held out the hamper. "I brought dinner, if you are hungry." He set it down and began extracting the food Betersel had packed. There was a bottle of wine, but also a couple of waterskins. He took one and held it out to the boy, "I would imagine you are thirsty."

Hesitantly, Eomer moved forward to claim it, his dry throat begging for the relief. "Thank you, Uncle," he said softly, before unstoppering it and eagerly drinking it down, spilling some down the front of him in his haste.

Refreshed, he also felt steadier, and sat down crosslegged next to the hamper. The two ate in silence for some time, but when it was clear both were finished, Theoden leaned back in the chair.

"I am not angry, Eomer, but it does sadden me that I have failed to make you feel at home at Meduseld. I realize this is difficult for you. Tell me what more I may do."

Eomer felt guiltier than ever at his words. "It…it is nothing you have done…or not done," he stammered. He fell silent, unable to explain.

When he said no more, Theoden seemed to understand that the boy did not have an answer for him. "Will you come back with me? Eowyn misses you, as do Theodred and I."

Eomer merely nodded submissively. A victory of sorts, Theoden supposed, though far short of what he desired. This matter was not settled, but perhaps now some discussion would come that would lead to happier days. He gestured to the waterskin. "You might want to wash your face before we go. It is quite dusty up here." He didn't want the lad further embarrassed by others knowing he had been crying. When Eomer finished the task, Theoden rose, and Eomer followed suit. With an arm about the boy's shoulders they moved to the door.

When they descended to the main floor, Betersel was waiting. She eyed each of them, but her gaze was mostly on Eomer. In the king's presence, she hesitated, but then followed her instincts. Moving quickly forward, she swept the lad into her embrace and simply held him. In an instant, he was clinging to her tightly and she knew she had judged rightly. Behind Eomer, the king smiled his approval at her.

After several minutes, Eomer drew away, biting his lip and looking embarrassed.

"Betersel, my apologies for the disruption to your day. I am afraid we must get back to Edoras, but I thank you for your hospitality. Perhaps…" – he looked appraisingly at Eomer – "perhaps we will visit again soon, when we may stay longer."

"My lord is always welcome here, of course," Betersel assured, with a quick stroke to Eomer's head to include him.

She walked outside with them, her arm around Eomer's shoulders. Garmund and his son were seated on the front steps and both looked up, rising quickly when they spotted the king. As Theoden began giving Garmund instructions, Eothain flashed Eomer an apologetic look for giving him away. Eomer gave a slight shake of his head in return, hoping to convey that he held Eothain blameless, and the two grinned ruefully at each other.

It was a quiet procession making its way toward Edoras. Under other circumstances, Eothain and Eomer would have thoroughly enjoyed the outing and talked the entire way, but instead they rode silently beside father and uncle, respectively.

Eomer could not resist a few sidelong glances at his uncle along the way. Why had the king come for him rather than sending someone? Was it possible that he mattered that much to his uncle? He could think of no other explanation, and it gave him a warm feeling.

Even so, surely there would be some punishment for all he had done. He saw now that Aldburg could not solve his problems, and he would not make that mistake again. He would accept whatever censure he faced for his actions, and maybe – maybe – he would one day find peace within himself.

THE END

6/1/12 – 6/4/12

Eomer is 12, Eothain is 11, Eowyn is 8

Definition of GARRET : a room or unfinished part of a house just under the roof (attic - garret is a synonym that seems to apply better in Middle-earth)


	9. Edification

_Eomer and his friends learn to be cautious about what they drink._

_**Eomer Chronicles 9. The total number will depend on how many ideas I get for new vignettes.**_

_**A/N: Thanks to Talia119 who inspired/suggested this scenario in her desire to see a "happier" story about Eomer's youth (than the more serious-toned ones that I mostly have written to date). Not sure this one is entirely "cheerier", but it comes closer than most of the others!**_

**Edification**

**(Edoras, June, 3005 III)**

"Where did you get it?" Eothain asked in surprise, shaking the small casket and hearing that it was still mostly full.

Cadda grinned. "My brother and some of his friends had a couple of them. When they wandered off into the bushes," – he winked significantly – "I snuck one away!"

The three boys eyed each other expectantly. Finally, Cadda suggested, "Shall we try it? All the men drink strong ale. This will show them we are no longer boys."

Eomer shifted uneasily, not certain about this. His uncle would surely not be pleased, but Eomer did wish to try it. He knew some of the men drank to excess and suffered for it, but many did not, so it must be safe…and he was curious. The ale served at supper was mostly the same thing, only not so strong as to intoxicate you. Yes, it would probably be safe. He nodded his agreement, and Eothain readily did the same.

"I could only carry one mug and the casket," Cadda explained, as they set it down. "We will have to share."

He held out the mug and Eothain carefully worked the stopper from the cask, then poured a measure into the cup. There was another moment of hesitation, but then Eothain urged, "You first. You are the one that got the ale."

Cadda looked a bit more nervous now that it actually came down to the drinking of it, but he swallowed hard and took a determined sip. It was sweeter, fruitier tasting than he expected, but it was definitely stronger than the stuff they drank with their meals. Truthfully, he could not see a whole lot of difference though. He shrugged and held out the cup for Eothain. "Pretty much tastes like our usual ale," he told the others.

Eagerly Eothain took a swallow, swirling it around in his mouth as he passed the cup on to Eomer. After the barest hesitation, he followed their example. All stood watching each other, waiting for a comment. "It is good," Eothain finally acknowledged, lifting the cask to refill the cup. "I do not see what all the fuss is about, though. Cadda is right – it is like what we drink with our meals. Maybe the taste is somewhat different, but close enough."

Eomer took another swallow from the refilled mug and then passed it on. "No, not much difference at all. Still, since we have it, we should drink it. It is foolish to waste it." The others agreed, and they settled on the ground in a circle, passing the cup and refilling as necessary.

It seemed to take quite awhile for the cask to empty, and Eomer was less inclined to drink more with each new cup, but it seemed dishonorable to leave it to the others. Cadda had become rather giddy, and was laughing at anything anyone said, whether it was amusing or not. _Was he drunk?_ Eomer wondered. He, himself, did feel a bit lightheaded, but he did not think it was affecting him all that much. Uncharacteristically, Eothain had grown more silent the longer they drank.

Suddenly, Cadda belched loudly, something he also found terribly amusing, then shoved himself to his feet. He stood unsteadily, snickering, "Why's th' ground moving? Are orcses comin'?" He giggled at his words, obviously not concerned at that possibility, then staggered away from them. A moment later they heard him relieving himself.

Eothain shook the casket, that at last seemed drained, and looked at Eomer. "Is's gone. I shou'…shou'..." He lapsed into silence, apparently forgetting what he had been about to say.

With greater effort than it had ever taken, Eomer climbed to his feet. He couldn't figure out why his arms and legs didn't seem to want to do what he directed. "Mebbe you shou' come wi' me," he slurred.

Eothain had managed to find his own feet, and stood precariously nearby, staring blearily at Eomer. After a moment, he nodded, though Eomer wasn't sure he understood what had been said. Holding onto each other in order to stay on their feet, they staggered back toward Meduseld.

Once they reached the foot of the steps, they paused, daunted by the climb before them. A new thought insinuated itself – how would they get past the guards without being noticed? Eomer pondered this, but his brain couldn't seem to come up with any ideas at the moment. Gravel crunched as Eothain moved over to the retaining wall by the spring.

"Shhhhhhhh, shhh! We don' wannabe caugh'," Eomer slurred unintelligibly. Not that it mattered. Eothain gave no indication that he'd heard, but merely leaned against the wall, hunched over and looking as though he might be ill. Eomer felt just the same as his friend. The walk home seemed to have had an unpleasant effect.

"Le's sleep in th' barn," he whispered. "We won' make it pas' the…the guards." His tongue was thick in his mouth, making it difficult to speak clearly. Even so, Eothain seemed to grasp his meaning, for he fell in beside him to stumble through the darkness.

They were fortunate that the watchman was in his room, and despite some noise, they were able to slip inside undetected. Eomer led the way toward the far end of the barn where he knew there was an empty stall. Once there, the two lowered themselves onto the straw with a groan. It was a relief to stop moving as the dizziness had been increasing with every step Eomer took. Beside him, Eothain had already rolled onto his side and begun snoring into his arm. For a moment, he wondered if Cadda had made it home, but the thought was gone almost as it formed – he couldn't seem to concentrate very well. It was not long before his eyes slid closed and he followed Eothain into slumber.

xxx

"Well, well."

The voice slammed into Eomer's brain. He had just begun to waken, and his sleep-fogged mind could not understand who was standing over him yelling so loudly. Worse still, it smelled as if someone had been ill, for the stench of sickness was strong in his nose. He peeked open one eye and discovered Theodred grinning down at him in bemusement, his arms crossed over his chest. A flick of his eyes revealed Eothain nearby and a pool of vomit between them. He vaguely thought he remembered Eothain being ill during the night, but the taste in his mouth made him wonder if perhaps it had been him instead, or as well.

He sat up slowly, leaning back against the stall wall, his head swimming. Even if it wasn't him who had been ill earlier, he wasn't at all sure he wouldn't be very soon. With that realization also came an awareness of what his cousin's presence meant, and a wave of shame and embarrassment washed through him. He could not look up to meet Theodred's eyes, and not just because the light through the window was painful.

Eothain was still snoring nearby, and he pondered whether to wake his friend to face the consequences of their actions with him. Finally, he decided it might be better to talk with Theodred first, and get the worst of it out the way without a witness.

Carefully stepping over the vomit, Theodred came further into the stall, and slid down the wall to take a seat beside him. For several minutes, he said nothing, and Eomer was not sure if he was more grateful for the silence or more anxious about what was to come.

At length, Theodred quietly explained, "Being a man is not shown by how much ale you are able to consume. It is in knowing how much you may drink before your thinking becomes clouded and your reactions are slowed. It is in knowing when to stop drinking so that you do not awaken to feel as if you were dragged behind your horse for several hours. Anyone may drink themselves into a stupor, but a wise man chooses not to do so, preferring to keep his wits about him at all times."

Despite the persistent pounding in his head, Theodred's words sunk slowly into Eomer's consciousness, and he recognized the truth in them. He did not feel very manly at this moment, no matter what others might say.

"Uncle will be angry with me," he mumbled, mortally shamed by what he had done. Surely some of the stablehands would have discovered them and alerted his cousin. He had embarrassed his uncle with his behavior.

"No," Theodred replied. "He will understand. Every young man makes a few missteps as he tries new things. But he will be disappointed if this becomes a common occurrence. Men drink for different reasons. Sometimes it is merely a social activity in the company of others; other times it is to forget. Drink may dull any pain you are feeling, and make your problems seem to disappear, but I assure you that both pain and problems will return full force after the drinking is done. It can make you forget such things for a time, but it cannot make them go away entirely. Indeed, it merely brings more problems – and discomfort – of its own."

After another couple of minutes, Theodred rose. "Wait here. I will bring you food and drink." When Eomer blanched, he added, "Unappealing though it sounds, you need food in your stomach, and water to help cleanse your body of the spirits."

He disappeared out the stall door, and Eomer carefully moved over to nudge at Eothain. His friend grumbled and groaned, but finally opened his eyes in a squint. "I do not feel well," he mumbled to the straw pressed against his face.

"I know," Eomer replied. "Theodred is bringing food. He says eating will help."

Eothain made a face, and slowly sat up, wincing as he did so. They sat in miserable silence, listening to the bustle of men tending the horses, until finally Eothain ventured, "What do you suppose became of Cadda? I do not recall where he went."

Eomer thought hard a moment, then shrugged. "I am not sure. Maybe he went home." He hesitated, then asked, "What about your family? They will notice you are not there for breakfast."

His friend considered this, then said, "They knew I was with you last night, so perhaps they will assume I spent the night at Meduseld." Despite the reassurance of his words, his face reflected his concern.

More silence ensued before Eomer asked, "What will your father say when he finds out what we have done?"

"I do not know," Eothain confessed, reluctantly. "I hope he will not be too angry." Then he added, "What about your uncle?"

Eomer bit his lip, then glanced out the stall door where Theodred had exited. "My cousin says he will understand, so long as I do not make a habit of this. I hope he is right."

Just then, Theodred returned and settled back down with them. He held out a waterskin to each of them, instructing, "Use some to wash your faces, and a bit to rinse your mouths. Then drink the remainder – all of it." He reached into a sack and brought out a loaf of fresh bread, tearing chunks off and handing some to each of them when they had finished doing as he'd told them. "Eat it all," he said firmly.

It was difficult choking down the first few bites, but Theodred was right that it did seem to settle Eomer's stomach to have food in it. Eothain looked slightly less pale as well. When they had finished all they could manage of the bread, Theodred told them, "The two of you need to clean this stall. Others should not have to clear up your mess." He gestured at the vomit. "When you are done, I will sneak you into Meduseld. The best thing for both of you is to sleep, and continue drinking as much water as you can for the rest of the day. I will also bring some willowbark tea to ease the pain in your heads."

He glanced at Eothain, then added with a grin, "And I will explain to your father where you are." He thought a moment, then chuckled and told them, "I will do my best to keep Eowyn away, but I make no promises! She can be most determined in her curiosity, especially where her brother is concerned."

Eomer wasn't sure how exactly they made it into Meduseld and his bedchamber without being waylaid by anyone, in particular his sister. Regardless of how it was accomplished, he was appreciative. Though the food and water had made him feel less queasy, his head still felt as though it was going to split open with every sound that was even moderately loud. He focused on merely getting there, and collapsed on the bed as soon as they entered the room. Eothain sprawled beside him, clearly in no better condition. For a moment, Theodred stood in the doorway, a sympathetic grin on his face. At length, though, he told them, "Get some sleep. That is the best thing for it."

Neither boy bothered with doing more than kicking off their boots, before sinking gratefully into the pillows. Soon both were asleep once more.

Eomer did not know how long they had slept, before he was jolted awake by his door crashing open. "Eomer! What is wrong? Theodred says you are ill?" He could not suppress the groan that erupted, and he flung an arm over his eyes in a vain effort to shut out everything around him. It was Eowyn, talking far louder than he would have wished.

Wincing, he raised up on one elbow to glare at her. "Eowyn! Go away. Can you not see Eothain is asleep, and Theodred says I should rest if I am to be well?"

He hoped rather than believed that would be sufficient for her, and he was correct. "But what is wrong with you? Is Eothain ill also? Theodred did not explain how you got sick. And why does it stink in here?" She wrinkled her nose, looking around for the source.

"I do not know how, I just did," he snapped with annoyance. "Now go away. I will talk to you later!" At the look of stubbornness rising on her face, he added a conciliatory, "Please?"

The courtesy he extended paid off, and her expression softened. "Very well. I…I hope you feel better soon. Eothain also." She turned and left, letting the door bang closed behind her and causing Eomer to wince again.

His eyes fell on the table by his bed, and he saw that Theodred had brought the promised willowbark tea while they slept. Although his head had eased a bit from the other measures they had taken, it still throbbed, so he reached for one of the two cups. It must have been sitting awhile as it was cold, and the taste bitter without honey to sweeten it, but he forced some down, trusting Theodred to know what would help.

Eothain shifted slightly beside him and mumbled, "I am very glad I do not have curious sisters!"

Eomer chuckled softly and lay back down. "She has her moments, but this is not one of them. Try to get back to sleep. I do not believe she will return."

He was met with silence and thought Eothain had already drifted off, but a few minutes later, just as he was starting to doze again himself, his friend suggested, "Ale is good, I do not deny, but let us strike a bargain never to do this again. The drinking of it to excess is not so pleasurable as to outweigh such misery afterwards."

"Aye," Eomer agreed with a sigh. "My sentiments exactly."

THE END

6/12/12 – 7/3/12

A/N: As I don't drink alcohol and have never been hungover, this story is mostly based on research about ale and hangovers. Many of you likely already know that ale was commonly consumed by all in medieval times, though it was not "hard liquor". The following are two excerpts from different sites that will provide more information on this subject. There was another site that mentioned that sugar or such was added to increase the alcohol content, and said bittering agents needed to be added to counteract the sweetness of ale in general, and thus the reason I have suggested the boys considered it sweeter than what they usually drank at meals.

"**Ale, along with bread, was an important source of nutrition in the medieval world, particularly small beer, also known as table beer or mild beer, which was highly nutritious, contained just enough alcohol to act as a preservative, and provided hydration without intoxicating effects. Small beer would have been consumed daily by almost everyone in the medieval world, with higher-alcohol ales served for recreational purposes. The lower cost for proprietors combined with the lower taxes levied on small beer led to the selling of beer labeled "strong beer" that had actually been diluted with small beer."**

…"**Unlike modern beers that are flavored with flowers of the hop plant, the Eberdingen-Hochdorf brew probably contained spices such as mugwort, carrot seeds or henbane, in Stika's opinion. Beer makers are known to have used these additives by medieval times. Excavations at the Celtic site have yielded a few seeds of henbane, a plant that also makes beer more intoxicating."**


End file.
